


kiss the pain away

by okaypottah



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Lives, Billy Hargrove Needs Love, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Harringrove, Hurt Billy Hargrove, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, Physical Abuse, Protective Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaypottah/pseuds/okaypottah
Summary: There was blood in his mouth and there was a dull ache everywhere and the room felt stuffy; he had toget out.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	kiss the pain away

**Author's Note:**

> some things; 
> 
> — set after s3   
> — billy lives (as he should have)   
> — it’s still like mid-december because i have plans for more fics (!!!) 
> 
> hello i’m new in the fandom and i love my bois. hope you enjoy!

The world felt hazy.

He stumbled, and fell into someone’s chest. He muttered a ‘fucking move’. He moved on.

He was very, very drunk. That much, he knew.

Everything else… like he said, it was hazy.

The place was packed with people, alcohol in hand, all swaying their bodies to the upbeat song playing that made his head hurt. 

When he took another step, he ended up chest-to-chest with another woman. She grinned up at him and then turned around, pushing herself up against him. His hands moved to her hips, more from habit than anything else, and she pushed her head back against his shoulder and he stiffened, spikes of pain making his vision black out for a split moment. Her lips brushed briefly against his ear as she whispered, “Hey, Billy.” 

He didn’t recognize the voice, doubt he would even if he wasn’t drunk off his ass, but he didn’t care. She was very pretty, and had a great ass, so he stood around for a few seconds before wandering off again. There was no direction to his path. In all honesty, he had no idea where he even was.

He couldn’t care less, either. 

A few minutes later he found himself against the wall in a secluded corner as nausea rolled low in his stomach, making him suck in a deep breath. He could feel the stares on him–  _ the boy who came back from the dead _ , he’d heard someone whisper behind his back one day. He held back a bitter chuckle, he’d have stayed dead if he could help it. 

It had been a few months  _ (four months, two weeks and three days—) _ since– since whatever happened happened, and look, Billy knew his life was already pretty shitty before but now, _now_ it’s even worse. Not because his heart rate picks up whenever he stays in the dark for too long, or because his reputation at school had taken a nosedive– people still talked about him, hushed whispers in the hallways as he walked past, but no one threw themselves at him blindly anymore; afterall he’d been at a government facility for two months, that ought to let them come up with pretty fucked up conclusions he could imagine.

No it’s because he can’t remember the last time his skin was not covered with red-blue-purple bruises. It’s because even after everything, it’s still Neil who’s making his life a living hell. 

Not that he didn’t before, but Billy had thought that after everything– being literally mind-controlled by a creature from another world and almost  _ dying _ , he’d have worse things to worry about other than his father with anger issues. Not quite, as it turns out. 

At some point he’d started walking again, feet carrying him mindlessly around the unfamiliar house. He could feel the beginning of the ache in the entirety of his body returning, the alcohol must be wearing off or something, so directed his way to the kitchen, or at least where he thought the kitchen was. 

Someone’s elbow digged into his side, hard, and he almost– _ almost _ let out a cry. Instead, he threw a, “Watch it, fuckface,” in its general direction and walked on, ignoring his protesting ribs. 

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that.” 

He stopped. Turned around. It was a kid he’d seen back at school, Daniel or something, full-on glaring at him. There’s a girl tugging at his arm, her gaze nervously shifting between him and Billy. 

_ Aw, young love, _ he held back a chuckle. 

He took a step forward, his insides warm with alcohol, slightly impressed with the way Tough Guy Daniel held his ground, and leaned forward so he was in his face, brow raised. “Or what,  _ kid _ ?” 

It  _ was _ meant to irk him, but the sudden punch kind of did catch him off-guard. He’d blame the copious amount of alcohol in his system for that. He could easily tell it was the first time the guy had thrown a punch, seeing as no one intentionally punched on the  _ mouth _ , but it was a good one if he does say so himself. He felt liquid run down his chin and as he wiped it off with the back of his hand, it came off red. Fucker had busted his lip open. 

“Oh, you’re on, buddy,” was all he said before his knuckles collided with the side of Daniel’s face. 

He heard the girl call out ‘ Darren !’ and  eh, pretty close, whatever,  as he drove his fist straight to  _ Darren _ _’s_ stomach, effectively knocking him out of breath. He grabbed him by the collars and held him up, considering delivering a few more punches just because he could but his own body aching with every small movement decided otherwise. 

“No one tells me what to do.” 

With that he let go, watching as he staggered back, caught by a few other kids. He flashed them all a bloody grin, before walking away. 

The grin dropped as soon as he turned away. Not many had noticed the fight, if you could even call it that, as the music didn’t stop, but a few people moved away from him as he walked past them, shifting their gazes pointedly. 

There was blood in his mouth and there was a dull ache everywhere and the room felt stuffy; he had to _get_ _ out .  _

The music got muffled as he closed the door behind him. Instinctively he reached into his pocket for his keys before realizing he didn’t have them, because Neil took them away because  ‘ he  _ could _ ’. He spat on the evenly-mowed grass, grimacing at the metallic after-taste in his mouth.

He felt himself shiver, he was absolutely not dressed for Hawkins’ December. For a moment he contemplated just entering back inside, but then shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and with a deep breath, began his long, long walk home. 

Walking when your body is still under the influence of alcohol while clad in only jeans, a shirt under a leather jacket when the temperature is in single digits is, as you’d expect, very,  _ very _ difficult and so Billy considered it a feat that he’d walked so far without falling into a ditch and breaking his legs or something. The stars weren’t even out, and it was dark and cold and he was oh so  _ tired _ – 

Maybe it was because he was so tired he was about to fall asleep on his  feet , or because he was still buzzed, but Billy didn’t hear the car until it came up right behind him— he’d been on the road the entire time?— its headlights shining. 

He turned around, muttering a curse as the lights shone directly in his eyes, one hand shooting up to shield them. Maybe he could ask them for a ride home? Just a charming smile and a series of well-practised words and he should be good. 

The lights dim and he drops his hand. He hears the creak of the car door opening and then, “Is that .. Hargrove, is that you?” 

The voice sounded way too familiar and as he blinked away the spots in his vision, his eyes fell on–

“Harrington?” 

Oh,  _hell no_ —

**Author's Note:**

> this one was more of a filler/build up than anything else and i know that. chapter two will be up in a day or two so keep an eye out for that. 
> 
> comments are appreciated!


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